


The Prequel to the One Fic where Akhos Sees Something he Shouldn't That I'm Not Posting. SFuck you

by ChurchOfGamzee



Series: Season One: THE ASCENSION. [9]
Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 17:17:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15248082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChurchOfGamzee/pseuds/ChurchOfGamzee
Summary: Touch the Cow!Do it Now!





	The Prequel to the One Fic where Akhos Sees Something he Shouldn't That I'm Not Posting. SFuck you

"...Alright, you should be good to go," Akhos says, scribbling down the last notes onto the.

"Ugh, finally." Patroka says, getting up from her chair. In her haste to leave, she doesn't even bother to give a thanks, or any of that. So typical of her, but still, a bit rude. Not like he can entirely blame her, however, considering Mikhail is the last on his list. Wouldn't surprise him if he just opted to go last because he knew Patroka wanted to, by some miracle.

They didn't really need to have check ups on each other. Everyone has quite similar biology in Torna, and the only thing the medical ward was used for was to get their injuries patched up. Organization and information however, are two highly appealing to Akhos. It's a waste, really, to have such a nice area go unused anyways, and who knows when they'll get new recruits? Or better yet, someone else to help him around this place.

Still. He's dreading having to check up Mikhail, that guy has a personality that just begs for his body to get banged up, in more ways than one.

"How's my darling little strategist?" Mikhail says, as he enters the ward, shutting the door behind him.

"Quite well, thank you." Akhos says, unsure how much of that exactly is sarcasm. As he flips another page, to Mikhail's blank sheet, with details he'd gotten from him earlier, he adds, "Take your shirt off and just sit on the counter. I'll be with you in a moment."

"Just my shirt? You'll miss my best feature if I don't get m--"

A crumpled piece of paper hits Mik's head before he's able to finish that. Can he seriously stop acting like a hormonal teenager for about twenty minutes? Please? To whatever higher up could hear him, he promises they'll get another follower if they just listen to his plea, and gift him for once. Who is he kidding; It's going to fall upon deaf ears, won't it. Why does he even bother, honestly, sans hope being a nice thing to have.

Well, he complied at least, Akhos notes, as he sets all he needs by the end table close by the counter he's set up. Alright; first matter of business, checking his chest area.

He prods his pectoral muscles with two fingers, forcefully but not painfully, and the hiss of pain Mikhail gives under his breath doesn't fail to escape Akhos' notice. Well, nothing can, really.

"Hurt?" Akhos asks, giving another press for good measure.

"To be fair, anyone's gonna feel a little pain if you're jabbing around their core crystal like that." Mikhail states, with hardly any of his usual vigor.

Except it wouldn't, because about everyone else just said it was more weird than anything. Sure, he's really the only one with human blood in his veins aboard the Monocerous, but still, nothing he was about to let slide. Especially when the medical books that he got his grasp of human anatomy from said that was an indicator of potential health issues. Even Malos, with his impaired core crystal didn't have any issue with his chest getting prodded anywhere close to that area.

Well, he'll just have to look at it later.

 

The rest of the check up goes fine, barring any crass comments made by Mikhail, that reward him with any of Akhos' writing that doesn't make it to editors getting lobbed in his face.

"By some blessing, you seem to be rather healthy," Akhos says, as he sets his notepad aside. "But I want to look at your chest again."

"Well, my shirt's still off if you want a picture." Mikhail teases.

He's actually out of paper, so he just shoots him a glare, which says more than enough for him.

"You really shouldn't have been in pain if I pressed it that hard." He presses, flipping a few pages back.

"R,really It's just my core crystal, n,no sweat." Mikhail says, giving a helpless laugh, as if he's trying to raise as many red flags as he can. Nope. No way, you're not getting your way out of this one.

Well, the first thing to do if someone has issues in their chest area, is to feel around, Akhos notes, grabbing Mikhail's pecs. Poking and prodding around didn't really show any signs of, if Jin and Malos were anything to go by, so maybe squeezing could--

His face and hands are

instantly drenched with warm liquid.

It takes him a moment to process what just happened, still firmly holding Mikhail's chest still in hands.

Akhos does try to avoid speaking ill of the Architect. Well, more accurately, his son, Malos. He was the one who saved him from being killed, or worse yet. He accepted him for who he was, gave him a home, somewhere he could be. Someone like that, well, you don't just speak of lightly, even if he isn't someone who likes to be revered as a holy being, and wants to be seen as an equal to all around him. However,

"Jesus fucking Christ."

Those are the only words within his seemingly limitless vocabulary he could use to describe, let alone commit a thesis, on his opinion of what had just happened. And he did try, truly, he did try to avoid that phrase. But...

"Uh."

Akhos just looks at Mikhail.

"You're... pregnant." He says, like some idiot, as if he didn't just get doused in his milk.

Mikhail is gravely silent, as if saying anything would get him killed. No, there's no way, there's... only one way to prove it. Pulling out the stethoscope, Akhos puts it against Mikhail's, and he... he definitely hears the baby's heartbeat in Mik's body. The tool is set aside once more, as he tries to process all of this.

"H...how long?" Akhos finally asks. He has many, many questions, but Mikhail would've... done something if he didn't want the baby in the first place, because it's not like that kind of tech doesn't exist.

"Not sure, actually. At least a good one hundred years, but... the kid seems fine." Mikhail says.

Which, Akhos can't deny that either. He hasn't given birth, no, but other than that anomaly, were Akhos to hypothetically preform a C-section at the moment (he won't, of course. Obrona was the only child they needed), the kid would most likely be fine. Blade eater bodies are... quite strange.

"I'll... keep this between the two of us." Akhos promises. It doesn't benefit anyone if word gets out about this anyways. Already, he can name at least one person who didn't benefit from knowing.

"P,please do." Mikhail thanks, finally helping clean up the milk.

Neither of them say anything past that. After Mikhail leaves, Akhos goes straight to bed. he's had enough for the day.

**Author's Note:**

> Touch the Cow!  
> Do it Now!


End file.
